Chapter 26 | Darkness

A couple of days had passed in the medical bay, each one blending into the next with the predictable rhythm of recovery. Leon sat on his bed talking to Nyra, who occupied the adjacent cot. Though the medical bay was lively with other recovering recruits, they were all Fulgaris who ignored both Leon and Nyra.

"What do you think is for lunch today?" Nyra asked, her typical composure slipping as it always did when food entered the conversation.

"I'm not sure, but the meatloaf yesterday was pretty decent." Leon rested his chin on his hand, staring into the middle distance with exaggerated reverence. "I wouldn't mind having it again, especially with that gravy."

"No—they better not make the same thing again," Nyra objected with a clenched fist. "Eating the same food back-to-back would be boring. Where's the culinary adventure in that?"

Leon had discovered Nyra to be fascinatingly contradictory during their recovery. With any other topic; military protocols, augmentation technologies, even personal histories, she maintained her neutral expression, communicating just enough while withholding her deeper thoughts. But mention food, and her careful defenses collapsed like a soufflé removed too early from the oven. 

Her eyes would light up, her gestures became animated, and she transformed into the actual 19-year-old she was rather than the guarded soldier she pretended to be.

It was a welcomed trait. 

He had finally found someone who matched his enthusiasm for food. Someone who wouldn't judge him for his borderline philosophical discussions about texture and flavor profiles.

The rapport they had developed made the medical bay tolerable, but beneath their casual conversations ran an undercurrent of anxiety. 

Today was the day. The day they would become something else.

The medical bay doors slid open. The lead technician—whose name Leon still didn't know—strode in with an entourage of white-coated assistants. She stopped a few feet from the entrance, her presence immediately quieting the room.

"Recruit Rae and Recruit Ezra," she announced, not bothering to look up from her datapad. "No lunch for you two today." 

She glanced up, her eyes clinical and detached. 

"Recruit Rae, follow Hans to receive your Adaptive Body Nanites."

A technician stepped forward, waiting for Nyra to follow.

Nyra turned to Leon, and for a brief moment, her careful mask slipped. There was uncertainty there, maybe even fear.

"See you on the other side," she said quietly, offering him a nod that somehow conveyed more emotion than any words could. "Don't let them mess you up too badly."

"Same to you," Leon replied, attempting a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Save me some food when we get back."

It was a small joke, their shared language now, but it seemed to steady her. She straightened her shoulders and followed the technician out of the medical bay.

"Recruit Ezra, follow me," the lead technician said, already turning to leave.

Leon swung his legs over the edge of the bed, suddenly aware of how thin the medical gown felt, how vulnerable he was about to become. He followed the lead technician with the rest of the entourage trailing behind him like silent sentinels.

They arrived at a white room similar to where he had medical samples extracted, but with key differences that made his stomach clench. Through a large transparent panel on the right wall, he could see what was unmistakably a surgical suite. 

A table dominated the center, surrounded by various mechanical arms hanging from the ceiling. Sensors, lights, and equipment that would soon transform him from Nullari to Fulgari.

The thought was still difficult to process. All his life, the Fulgaris had been his oppressors, the untouchable elite who looked through him rather than at him. And now he would become one of them. 

Would he look at other Nullari the same way after this? Would he even be the same person?

"Sit down," the lead technician ordered, gesturing to the examination table. Her voice carried the edge of irritation. "Protocol states I need to give you a briefing before we begin."

Is she mad I picked the elite track instead of being her lab rat? Leon thought as he hoisted himself onto the cold table. The chill of the metal seeped through the thin fabric of his gown, raising goosebumps along his skin.

"You will be undergoing the Ascending with two procedures simultaneously," she began, not looking at him but at her datapad. "First, the installation of a state-of-the-art Cerebral Resonance Interface. This CRI comes equipped with an advanced system."

She paused, seeming to reconsider her wording. 

"Though 'advanced' isn't quite accurate…the system isn't truly intelligent, for security reasons. It responds to commands, can analyze situations and thoughts to determine user intent, but not act on its own without strict programming."

Leon listened as she explained how the CRI would integrate with his brain, using his neural processing power and visual cortex. It would serve as the controller for ambient mana manipulation, since the human brain couldn't directly interact with ambient mana.

"The CRI will be a closed system," she continued, and Leon's networking background immediately recognized the significance. Unless he connected to another system, it would remain standalone. Impossible to hack or access remotely.

Smart, he thought. Fulgaris wouldn't join if they knew the Imperials could access their CRI. And enemies can't hack what they can't connect to.

"Second, the Adaptive Body Nanites," she continued, switching screens on her datapad. "These are also the latest model. They'll be injected into your bloodstream and will gradually integrate with every cell in your body, reinforcing cellular structures and working in harmony with the CRI to distribute mana throughout your system."

The clinical description couldn't mask the reality: microscopic machines would soon be everywhere inside him, changing him on a fundamental level. The idea was both terrifying and fascinating.

"Do you have any questions?" she asked, looking up at him for the first time during the briefing.

"Y—" Leon began, wanting to ask about pain levels, recovery time, and potential side effects.

"Good, let's begin," she cut him off, turning to the group of technicians. "Prepare the sedatives. Power up the devices."

She began walking toward the door to the operating room before pausing to look back at Leon. For the first time, her expression softened into something resembling a smile.

"It'll be over before you know it," she said, and Leon couldn't tell if it was meant to be reassuring or ominous.

The technicians moved with haste. One attached monitoring devices to his chest and temples, while another prepared an injection.

"The table will automatically transfer you into the surgical suite," a technician explained as he positioned an anesthetic mask. "Take deep breaths."

The mask descended over Leon's face. It was cool against his skin, and the air coming through carried a sweet, chemical smell that made his head swim almost immediately.

"Count backward from ten," the technician instructed.

"Ten... nine..." Leon began, already feeling the edges of reality softening. 

"Eight..."

His eyelids grew unbearably heavy. As darkness began creeping in from the periphery of his vision, a strange thought floated through his mind: 

This is the last moment I'll exist as purely myself.

"Seven..." he mumbled, the word slurring.

The ceiling lights blurred into streaks of white.

"Si..."

Darkness.